


Ink & Needles

by sluttyrambles



Series: Ink & Needles [1]
Category: The Boulet Brothers' Dragula RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, F/F, Lesbian AU, Piercings, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 04:03:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19737934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sluttyrambles/pseuds/sluttyrambles
Summary: Erika confidence is shaken at the sight of needles, but restored at the sight of the cute piercer.Erika/Monikkie with side James/Abhora.tattoo/piercing & lesbian au





	Ink & Needles

**Author's Note:**

> semi based on my own experiences with piercings mixed with the first extermination.  
> just playing with characterization, and an excuse for cute smut later.
> 
> Erika/Monikkie with side James/Abhora.  
> tattoo/piercing & lesbian au

Erika’s teeth dug into the inside of her cheek, trying her best to keep her hands from trembling. She took careful, measured breaths in and out through her nose, hyper aware of Abhora’s eyes on her face, her friend’s thin brows drawn together in concern. Erika loved and appreciated all her friends, even though she did have to be the voice of reason (and the only voice of reason at that) more often than not; but right now she found that Abhora’s concern more annoying than appreciated. Instead of the warm fuzzies that her friends caring for her or worrying about her, normally gave her, she felt her blood boiling under all her nerves; where the fuck was this concern for her before, when James brought up all this stupid shit? Abhora didn’t seem to give a shit at dinner, when James took shot after shot at her and how boring, sad and pathetic she was. But now; now that Erika was steeling her nerves and doing something for herself… for once… and facing her fears, NOW Abhora wanted to worry. Now that Erika couldn’t possibly back out, not without fucking hating herself, without hating her friends, now that her only choice was just do it. Of course, that wasn’t really true, Erika thought as she stood there, breathing evening out, even as her hands started trembling. She wasn't mad at either of her friends, just annoyed that her carefully built confidence felt shaky for the first time years, felt embarrassed that Abhora could tell she was nervous. She felt Abhora watching her, as Erika pretended to only be watching James, who was leaning on the glass counter and tap-tap-tapping her nails on it in clear annoyance. She tossed her long red hair over her shoulder as she turned and smirked at them, eyes skipping over Erika’s body, from her platform mary janes to the clips in her bangs; her smirk growing with each second. Erika bit down the annoyance; James wasn’t actually judging her, Erika knew that, just appreciating the irony of Erika’s pastel brights in this mostly black shop. But Erika felt defensive in a way she hated, and she doubled down her efforts at trying to push out her nerves and let herself relax. 

“Looks like it could be your lucky day, girl.” James’ smooth voice drawled over the quiet of the waiting room, “since no one can be bothered to fucking work here.” 

James’ nails tapped again on the counter, and Erika felt settled in the familiarity of her annoyance, smiling as she watched Abhora’s eyes slide back to focus on James’ fingers. The grin that bloomed on Abhora's face made Erika blush, and she hastily jerked her eyes away before Abhora noticed and turned that leer on her. 

“I’m sure they’re just busy, it is late, and we don't have appointment.” Erika took a step forward, inwardly cursing her need to calm every situation, especially when it was digging her deeper into this hole, “I’ll look for someone.”  
Erika took a hesitant step to the side of the counter, leaning forward to peer down the short hallway of doors, a little nervous to just wander into the shop. But James just scoffed, turning around and resting her lower back against the counter, her long legs stretching out with purpose, the toe of her heels knocking against Abhora’s boots. James had clearly decided that Erika's hesitant peering down the hallway was boring, and instead directed her laser focus on Abhora, smirking back at her with equal intensity. Their weird, passive aggressive way of flirting made Erika a little uncomfortable; it was a little too much like watching someone reach toward a snake you knew was about to strike. 

Erika peered down the hallway, into the stillness, wondering what she should do. There was a door that had muffled music playing behind it, but she thought it'd be rude to go and knock. Maybe James was right, and she would get out of this; only now she wasn’t sure how she felt about that, now that she’d finally gotten the courage to come in, she wondered if she’d be able to come back. Erika startled as the door behind them slammed open, bouncing against the wall and sending the bell ringing wildly. 

“Sorry, had to smoke. What do you want.” The new voice was deep, slow, and a little nasal, and Erika felt her cheeks warm annoyingly as she whirled around, feeling self conscious as her skirt swished. Erika flinched as James took a deep breath, preparing what would no doubt be a very pointed tirade, and tried to make eye contact with Abhora; even though really it’s not like Abhora would say anything that wouldn’t encourage James even more. 

“What we want are fucking employees who actually do their fucking jobs, but I guess that’d be too much to ask for. Shit, if you were out front, didn’t you see us come in?” Erika was always impressed by James’ ability to keep her expression so flat and bored even as her pitch and volume shifted higher and higher with annoyance. She straightened, hand slamming onto the glass counter as she eyed the employee, clearly unimpressed.

“Yeah, I did.” The girl brushed against the flare of Erika’s skirt as she walked past her, boots loud on the tile. She was clearly unbothered with James’ ranting, maybe even amused by it, if the tilt of her lips was anything to go by. She smelled like weed and vanilla, like she’d sprayed something lazily on herself before walking in, and she paused briefly to peer down at where Erika’s skirt was pressed to the huge hole in the thigh of her jeans, as though confused. Their eyes met, but the woman didn’t say anything else, face still blank, and Erika felt her normal calm and confidence suddenly return, even if her hands were still shaky. 

The girl rounded the counter and leaned against it lazily, cheek in her palm and tits pressed to the countertop. She was gorgeous, in that trashy kind of way. Her hair was bleached blonde, a little teased and a lot messy, but not in the careful, fashionable way Abhora kept hers: it was damaged at the ends and a little tangled. Erika could honestly say she was just looking at the ends of the woman's choppy layers, until suddenly, instead, she was focused on the smooth, pale rise of her breasts under her fishnet top, the swell of them pushed up and together by her bra. They were covered in ink, a rose resting prettily just where her cleavage ended, and Erika found herself tugging her jean jacket closed, as though another layer over her chest would suddenly make her own flat chest suddenly change. 

Erika jerked her eyes away from the woman, aware that she was staring a little too long. She glanced up just in time to see Abhora’s eyes narrow at the flippant response, while James’ widened with what Erika knew was pure outrage. The blonde at the counter just kept staring at James, as though she hadn't even spoken, face blank and bored. Erika felt a little giddy watching them, couldn't shake the feeling that for once James had met her match, and judging by the way Abhora squared her shoulders, she felt it too.

“Then why didn’t you fuc-“ Abhora shifted to watch as James started again, lip lifting in a snarl, only for her to look purely shocked as the employee interrupted her.

“Hello, I’m Monikkie, welcome to Ink and Needles, what do you want and how may I help you.” Monikkie, apparently, sounded impossibly even more bored, as though she didn’t even notice that James was ramping up to lose her damn cool. 

“Actually, uh, I want to get a piercing.” Erika shifted, clutching her own sides and hoping that she didn’t look as scared as she felt. At least she sounded normal, enough that Abhora wasn’t giving her that obnoxious pitying look anymore. Monikkie perked up a bit, turning toward her and ignoring James and Abhora completely, as if Erika opening her mouth gave her permission too. James looked more outwardly annoyed than Erika could ever really remember, and that made her grin.

“Your pussy?” Monikkie sounded excited, almost hopefully, and the change from her previously bored tone made Erika’s cheeks flare up red again. She could feel the shock, then realization, then embarrassment, flash over her face in quick succession but she couldn’t stop grinning. She heard Abhora’s quiet cackle, and met Monikkie’s eyes, attempting to ignore her two friends huddled together and staring, trying to focus instead on her breathing again. 

"Uh, no, my nose?” She cursed herself for saying like a question, shifting a little uncomfortably.

“Mm.” The blonde pushed up fully from the counter, sauntering over to Erika and peering at her face for a moment, before shrugging one shoulder. “Alright, c’mon.”  
She started off down the hallway, and Erika specifically didn’t look back at Abhora and James to see if they were following, didn’t want to give James any more amusement that she was already getting. Didn’t want to look needy. 

This whole thing had started when they were at dinner together, when Erika; trying her best not to feel like a third wheel as James and Abhora ignored her to eye each other hungrily; but of course when Erika mentioned how she wanted a nose piercing James had snapped to attention, rolling her eyes and “gently” informing Erika that she was way too much of a pussy to ever actually do it. And then it had spiraled from there, and now they were here, in the first highly rated shop Abhora had found on her phone. 

“Y’all can just have a seat on the couch.” Monikkie threw this over her shoulder, pointing not at all in the direction of the couch in front of the counter. Erika looked this time, watching as James grinned widely, catching her eyes. 

“We can come with you if you want, Erika.” Her voice was sweet, but Erika knew her better than that. 

“No, I can handle it. Behave, ladies!” She kept her voice cheery, refusing to back down from James’ challenge. Abhora was already slumping onto the leather, and with her went the last of Erika’s hope for comfort. She followed Monikkie to the end of the hallway and into the doorway there. The door shut behind them, and Erika took another deep breath, digging her nails into the denim of her coat. The room was eerily silent, only Monikkie’s heavy footsteps breaking the quiet. 

Erika shifted in the doorway, catching sight of her own wide eyes in the floor length mirror on the wall. She looked cute, at least, although she felt out of place in all her pastels; she normally didn’t give much thought to how she looked to other people but she couldn’t help but wonder what Monikkie though about her. She absentmindedly brushed her bangs from her face, glad that she’d kept up with her dyeing schedule, the colors bright and even.

Erika was a little surprised by how much like a doctor’s office the little room was, the same long bed and little counter with a sink. She walked over to the bed; gurney?; and hopped up, swinging her a legs a little to stop, or at least hide, the shake in them. Erika jumped a little as Monikkie turned on the sink, and she felt the realization of what was happening wash over her again, hot and nervous. She shrugs out of her coat and lets it fall onto the bed behind her, pulling her dress down over her thighs, smoothing the tulle. Monikkie turns back, twirling a marker in her fingers, and walks over to stand close enough that Erika’s skirt presses into her thighs again.

“So, Miss-“ Monikkie raises one pale eyebrow, making one of balls of her bridge piercing raise with it, and Erika quickly supplies her own name, “Miss Erika. What can I do you for?” She prods the end of Erika’s nose with the marker, “Still no pussy?” 

“Ha, no, just a stud.” Erika taps the side of her own nose, and manages a wink. She's relieved that without her friends eyes boring into her she at least sounds more confident. 

“Shame.” Monikkie smirks, batting Erika’s finger away gently and grasping her chin gently in one hand, twisting Erika’s head to different angles as she peers intently at her face, lips parting slightly. She leans in a little closer, pressing the marker to Erika’s nostril carefully. Her eyes squint as she observes the placement, and Erika can’t help her smile when Monikkie nods to herself, turning away to grab a little handheld mirror. Erika observes the little dot, still grinning, and locks eyes with Monikkie over the mirror. 

“Perfect.” Monikkie’s eyes are light and clear, and she smirks again, holding the gaze for a moment and Erika flushes again. 

“Lay back.” Monikkie pats the bed, and Erika swings herself onto it, resting her hands on her stomach. She inhales deeply, cringing a little as her heavy shoes settle on the bed. Erika watches from the corner of her eye as Monikkie prepares a little tray of plastic wrapped needles, setting it on the top of the bed above Erika’s head, and lets her eyes follow the woman around the room as she prepares. Monikkie smirks down at her, reaching out and tugging her skirt down a little for her, smoothing it against her legs, never breaking her gaze away from Erika’s face. Erika grins at her, heart racing, hands scrunching her skirt in her fists. 

“You don’t have to do this, ya know.” Monikkie tilts her head, that little smirk never leaving, and as soon as Erika starts to protest, Monikkie talks over her- “We can always poke your pussy instead.”  
As Erika laughs, both startled and a little delighted, Monikkie seems to snap back into ‘work mode’, snapping on gloves and tearing open the packaging of the needles. She starts explaining the process to Erika in her pretty, nasal voice and Erika lets her eyes fall shut, lets the words soak in. She keeps her eyes closed, tries to focus on holding still, letting all her nerves settle in her shaking hands instead, and focus on Monikkie’s calm, lazily drawl. 

When the needle finally breaks through the skin, Erika lets out an involuntary moan, and she hears Monikkie let out a little chuckle. The pain really wasn’t that bad, and for the first time since the door shut behind them, Erika almost wishes Abhora and James were in here, just so they can see how well she takes it. She’s tearing up, though, so she doesn’t really want them in here. She’s a little embarrassed, but Monikkie had said her eyes would water, so maybe, just maybe, the other woman won’t think anything of it. There’s a little more shuffling, but Erika keeps her eyes shut, trying to make sure her breathing stays even so she doesn’t start really crying, letting the sting in her nose and the shaking of her hands start to calm down. Faintly, she hears Monikkie say “almost done” which is a little confusing, because they’re definitely done. But then there are soft fingertips pushing away the tears under her eyes, and she gasps when Monikkie presses her lips against Erika’s, soft and warm and plush, and Erika can feel the other woman’s tits press into hers, all soft pressure that sends a jolt straight to Erika’s pussy. Her eyes snap open, a little surprised to see Monikkie’s staring straight back her, expression still unreadable. 

“All done.” Monikkie murmurs, and then she’s snapping her gloves off, and opening the door, head tilted in the direction of the hallway, her blonde hair swinging into her eyes carelessly. “No tip needed, either.” 

And then she’s out of the door, and Erika can hear her calling to, based on the offended and sharp reply, James: “Hey, bitch.” 

Erika sits up slowly, and glances at herself in the mirror, cheeks pink with a new glint in her nose, and winces when her grin sends a sharp pain through her nose. She shrugs back into her jacket, and hops down, wandering down the hallway and blinking in surprise as she sees James sliding her credit card, both her and Abhora glaring not-so-subtly at a completely oblivious Monikkie. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” James said, not looking up as she signs the receipt. She’s not actually even looking at Erika, still sending a blood chilling glare at Monikkie. “It looks good.” Abhora is actually looking at Erika, with a grin, when she agrees. 

“Yeah, it’s real cute.” Monikkie’s voice snatches all of Erika’s attention again, even as James scoffs, dropping the pen onto the counter and turning away without a word. She sweeps to the door, Abhora following immediately, leaving Erika standing next to the counter stupidly, staring at Monikkie once again. The blonde goes to reach for the receipt, refusing to look in Erika's direction, and Erika jerks forward, smacking her hand on it and grabbing the pen James left. 

“Actually, I do wanna leave you a tip.” Erika scribbles her phone number down on the receipt. “You don’t have to, or anything, but-“ Erika looks up at Monikkie and is surprised by the other woman’s expression: it’s shocked, and a little sheepish, and her smirk turns into a full smile, though she schools it quickly, pressing her lips together. She finally meets Erika's eyes again, and she’s blushing a little, slumping onto the counter again and staring at Erika through her lashes. Erika feels like everything is right in her world again, all the shaking gone and her confidence fully restored now that her nerves aren’t acting up. 

“You should, though. I want you to.” Erika lets herself sound a little forceful, and she grins wider when Monikkie just slumps a little more onto the counter, no longer meeting Erika’s gaze, but still smiling.

“Yeah, alright.” Monikkie mumbles, and they both startle a little as James slams her hand on the horn for several seconds from outside. Erika turns for the door, pausing for a minute after she pulls it open. She glances over her shoulder, waits until Monikkie meets her eyes before she speaks again. 

“I want you to.” 

And then James slams her hand on the horn again, repeatedly, but Erika doesn’t leave the doorway until Monikkie slides the receipt into the pocket of her tight jeans, and meets Erika’s eyes again. When Erika climbs into Abhora’s car, James is still leaned into the drivers seat, into Abhora’s space, hand on the wheel so she honk again. Erika gives Abhora a wink in the rearview mirror, and the two grin at each other as James starts to soften now that she’s out of sight of Monikkie. 

“You’re gonna get staph.” James offers, then softening a bit, “It really does look good. You did good.”

“That’s not the only thing she’s gonna get.” Abhora starts cackling when James looks confused, and Erika lets herself settle into the seat. She grins at her friends, feeling more smug than she has in a long time when her phone vibrates from in her jacket pocket. She doesn’t bother to look at it as Abhora whips out of the parking lot, because she can see Monikkie still slumped on the counter as they do, cell phone in her hand.


End file.
